Alice Coyle: Reveling in my lawn's blades of glory

Tuesday

Jun 23, 2009 at 12:01 AMJun 23, 2009 at 11:16 PM

“It’s like a golf course out there,” I exclaim excitedly as we pull into the driveway, pointing to the sloping hill beneath the birch tree where the tender green blades have poked out – giving the resident rabbits something new to nibble on.

Only God can make a tree.

But I can make a lawn.

After nearly two years in our new home and several futile attempts to get grass to grow amid the rocks, buried construction debris, glass, weeds and mushrooms in our yard, this spring’s continually cool and rainy weather is helping me grow small patches of emerald turf.

“It’s like a golf course out there,” I exclaim excitedly as we pull into the driveway, pointing to the sloping hill beneath the birch tree where the tender green blades have poked out – giving the resident rabbits something new to nibble on.

“If you listen closely, you can just hear the grass growing, can’t you?” I ask my husband and son every day or two.

But I can’t. I’m too proud of my small success at tilling the soil – such as it is – sandy, rocky and unforgiving.

It’s no small task, this grass-growing business. It’s hard work; back breaking even. The yard — front, back and on both sides — is riddled with weeds and stones requiring me to rake it out with a metal hoe and remove the debris by hand. Certainly a rototiller operated by a burly landscaper, followed by the delivery of a couple hundred yards of screened loam would be preferable to all this raking, yanking and rock removal, but I do the best I can with what I have.

Our neighbors across the street with the pristine gardens and beautifully manicured lawn smile when they see me toiling and offer words of encouragement.

“It takes time,” they tell me. “You should have seen this place when we moved in 14 years ago.”

On the one hand, I’m inspired by the “fruit” of their years of labor.

On the other hand, did they say 14 years?!
That’s a long road - or yard - to hoe!

Trying not to get discouraged I rake on, and remind myself “Rome wasn’t built in a day”; “take baby steps”; “don’t try to boil the ocean”; and a variety of other useless platitudes that come to mind.

I could use some help; after all, two hoes are better than one.

But my husband, who has frequently shared his complete antipathy for yard work has also made his role in this grass endeavor clear: “If you grow it, I’ll mow it.”

Lucky for me, Mother Nature has been lending a hand with copious rain, cool days and nights for the past two months.

Unlike my 10-year-old, who greets this dismal weather with frowns and complaints, I linger by the window and look out into the mist and drizzle with a smile on my face.

“This is great grass-growing weather,” I tell him, eliciting only eye rolling in response.

“I think I’ll pick up another bag of seed tonight.”

Alice Coyle is the managing editor of GateHouse Media New England’s Raynham, Mass., office. She can be reached at acoyle@cnc.com.